Poems | Priyam Goswami

Artwork: W. Jack Savage

Giving You Away

By the university space, the lovers wait;
They have made their love, have spoken.
At night when they would be gone,
The traffic lights would still be working
in this vastness of a dead silent stupor.

Over and over the sights are run –
The lovers come and go, the places stay.
Layers and layers of lives on them;
Not you; for you the universe is missed.
In you – a missed universe.
And by and by, when winter will come
We too will go away in dreamy trains

Rushing through fogs in a foetal pose,
Trying to sleep and gather some moss.
Far away in Benares, by ghats we sit,
Selling memories of your love to strangers –
giving you away in the meandering Ganges

A Death at the Ghats

There is a man who goes to the ghats at night
calling seagulls and boatmen at Narad Ghat;
he walks past the corpses at Manikarnika Ghat
never counting the boats that are waiting.

There is a man who goes to the ghats at night
calling out the seagulls who will never love him;
in the fog ahead when the world is disappearing fast,
the man will kneel and quietly drown.

A Monologue at Scindia Ghat

the fog is a stained glass painting; you want to see the world and fog makes you see at itself; it is reflective of voids. You never find people who want to see the fog. Only photographers who love burnt dead bodies. I have only love people at Scindia Ghat at 8 pm, smelling of charas and the Ganges.

suddenly when the fog comes in and I won’t see you anymore – I will not know if you have left me alone in the fog at the ghat; I will only remember how you smelled of the fog at night.

(for Gerd Baum)

The World, According to Arturo Belano

What Hebrew Sounds Like

Hebrew sounds like secret codes
where people dance on the streets in Mexico;
their shirts undone, the sweat glistening in the dark


the fact is contorted, disfigured
the sound comes out in fragments –
punctuated by silences in between.

the face remains disfigured for a few
more moments of disfigured expressions.  

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